The World Needs More Male Friendships
The epidemic of loneliness is a crisis.
Two years ago, I got the call I’d always feared. A close friend had suffered a heart attack after years of alcohol abuse. Within 48 hours, he was gone. He died alone in a hospital bed, separated from loved ones by pandemic restrictions. But that isolation wasn’t new to him.
His alcoholism had been isolating him for years. I often wonder—what came first? Did his alcoholism drive his isolation, or did his isolation drive his alcoholism?
15% of men say they have no close friends. That’s about 25 million American men without a single friend to turn to. Even among those who do have friends, 79% report not receiving any emotional support from them. In the 18-23 age group, more than a quarter of men say, “no one really knows me.” Today, young men rely more on their parents than their friends.
But it wasn’t always like this. Back in 1990, most American men reported having 6 or more close friends. By 2021, that number had dropped to just 27%. The pandemic only made this problem worse, as isolation and the lack of opportunities for social interaction deepened the problem.
The causes are many and complex. Cultural and societal pressures play a big role. Traditional ideas of masculinity often discourage emotional openness and vulnerability, limiting opportunities to build deep emotional bonds through genuine connection. Men often have what are called casual friendships—a co-worker, a golf buddy, or the guy they chat with at the bar. But these relationships usually lack the depth needed to offer real support during tough times or personal crises.
Whatever the reasons, the results are significant and troubling. Depression in men is on the rise, correlating with an increase in male loneliness. This loneliness is linked to obesity, declining physical health, relationship struggles, extremist behavior, and substance abuse.
Men account for 80% of suicide deaths in the US. Some studies suggest that increasing loneliness and isolation could elevate the risks of violence, domestic abuse, and extremist behavior. This is a crisis.
This led me to do an informal survey of my male friends. I asked them a simple question: Who is your best friend that is not a co-worker or family member, and how often do you get to see them each year? I was shocked to discover that 20% of them confessed that they didn’t have a best friend at all.
This sparked a lively discussion within our group. None of us had realized just how disconnected we were. So, we made a commitment to change that. I joined a group called the Adventurman Guild, started by a friend of mine. The goal is simple: to be Boy Scouts for adults. The group goes on trips and adventures together. The guild has weekly challenges of learning, discovering, and sharing. The group has bonfires and gatherings that unite men to talk about issues in a private, confidential setting. It’s been incredibly rewarding for the group.
It’s remarkable to see how the simple act of sharing and being vulnerable opens the door for others to do the same. It creates a domino effect, and the most common thing heard is, “I didn’t know others felt like this.”
In another friend group, we committed to setting up in-person dinners once every three months, deliberately carving out time from our busy schedules to be present and share. We’ve held four such dinners so far, and the connections have been deep and meaningful for all of us.
The world needs more deep male friendships. Which really is to say, men need to take greater responsibility for their happiness and mental health by making the effort to build community within their friend groups. This is an enemy from within, but I believe it’s one we can conquer by raising awareness and creating groups that go beyond the typical male relationships centered around work, sports, or alcohol.
We need groups that make a concerted effort to build healthy connections around the shared human experience. Because as isolated as we may feel, once we start sharing our internal struggles and guarded personal demons, we realize we’re not so different from everyone else. And that makes our troubles just a little easier to bear.
This could literally save a life. I think it would have saved my friend.
If you are a friend and you’re too embarrassed to admit you are lonely. This is your opportunity. You’re not complaining. I’m asking. Are you okay? I’m here to help and I believe you.
This post really struck a chord with me—it’s powerful and important, and like you said, it could literally save a life. I’ve struggled with finding "my people" locally, often feeling more connected to those I meet briefly in places far from home. Your words remind me that this search for deeper connections isn't just my own personal struggle—it’s part of a larger, shared experience that so many men face.
The statistics you shared are chilling and reveal a deeper truth: as men, we need to lean into vulnerability and build genuine connections. I admire your commitment to changing that narrative by joining new groups and making the effort to be present at those quarterly dinners. You’re showing that it's possible to push past isolation, but it requires intentionality and vulnerability—two things we’re often conditioned to avoid.
This crisis may be quiet, but posts like this are loud in the best way. Keep spreading this message, because it’s exactly what we need to hear.
Thank you for sharing this.
I understand you are speaking from your own experience and perspective as a male- however, this piece could have and should have included women - we are in the same boat - without friendships, loneliness, depression. Work, social media, the world at large has left us all disconnected and socially isolated. Having someone to talk to regularly, seeing people outside of work, "doing things" with others - all super important I do agree. Thanks for sharing and reminding us all to get out there....